Pride and Prejudice and Supernatural
by r2metoo
Summary: Samuel admits his feelings for Gabriel, and there is a ball at Netherfield. Pairings: Destiel, Sabriel, Adamandriel
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I have searched and not found anyone who's done something like this, but if I wasn't searching for the right thing and someone's already done it, please let me know. I really don't want to step on anyone's toes. **

**I'm following the book here, but there is going to be smut, and there's going to be blood and gore. I mean, I'm really trying to stay out of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies territory where the author just interjected the word "zombie" over the original text for most of the book. I am actually trying to use the bones of the book to build my own monster. Feedback on both of these concerns is welcome. Please let me know. **

**This chapter follows chapters 1-3 of Jane Austen's novel. In my story, both John and Mary are alive, and Adam is also their child. I would put Dean's age around 26, Sam at around 22, and Adam at about 16. **

It is a truth universally acknowledged than an unbound angel must be in want of a hunter.

Regardless of the opinions or feelings of either party in the matter, it is certain that this truth must be applied to such a creature by every family for their own child as soon as any one enters a neighborhood.

"Dear God in Heaven, John, a big bunch of uppity angels just took out Netherfield Park," Mr. John Winchester's lady said to him one day.

Mr. Winchester stated that he had heard no such thing and questioned the voracity of such a statement.

"Oh, it's done all right. Just heard from Rufus."

Mr. Winchester put his paper down. "Rufus was here and you didn't tell me? Geez, woman, I ask for so little!"

"I'm bringing you information, you old coot," Mrs. Winchester muttered affectionately. "Sorry, but he had to skedaddle. But don't you want to know anything about the angels that are taking it?"

"Good grief, they're angels. Who cares?" Mr. Winchester answered back. "But if you know anything, I guess you'd better tell me so we'll know what we're up against."

"From what I understand, it's Gabriel the Archangel himself," Replied Mrs. Winchester. "Can you imagine? The boys?"

"The boys? Oh no, no no no, no boys of mine are going to get bound to some uppity archangel!"

"Yeah, but what if one of them takes a liking to them? I mean, Sam's so tall and Dean's got shoulders for days…"

"You don't think that's what they're here for, do you?"

"I don't know," Mrs. Winchester said thoughtfully, staring out her elegant draperies. "I mean, that's something they do, right? Bind to humans. Give them abnormally long lives. Save people. Hunt things. You should probably go and pay them tribute."

"Tribute!" Mr. Winchester scoffed, once more turning to his paper. "No way in hell, baby. But, uh…maybe you could go," he offered, his voice taking on a mischievous edge. "Take the boys with you. You know. Pay them some tribute."

"Oh? And what am I supposed to say? That the head of our house was too lazy to get off his fat ass and come and say hi?" Mrs. Winchester then turned simpering and lowered Mr. Winchester's paper a fraction with her finger. "Besides, what would you do if Gabriel took a shine to me, huh? Bonded to my lifeline and took me hunting all over the country?"

In a vulgar display sure to embarrass the county and their children, Mr. Winchester took Mrs. Winchester into his lap and placed his hand on a very delicate area of her personage. "He can pry your pretty little ass out of my cold, dead hands, baby."

Mrs. Winchester was clearly scandalized by such a display for she chastised him mightily and pried herself from his arms. "You need to pay the angels tribute, John, and you know it. We all hate them freakin' angels, but you gotta play the game."

"Politics," Mr. Winchester growled. "Tell ya what, when you go and take the boys with you, I'll send a letter with plenty of tributing words in it, and then it'll all get taken care of."

"Don't be an ass," Mrs. Winchester snapped.

"I'm not, I swear on my dad's empty room, that son of a bitch, that I'm not playing around."

Mrs. Winchester rolled her eyes. "Do whatever you like, smartass. I'm gonna go sharpen my knives."

"Sure, your knives," said Mr. Winchester. "They've been my old friends these twenty years at least. I hope you do a good job so Gabriel will be impressed."

"Don't see much how he'll notice if you don't pay him tribute you bastard."

Mr. Winchester was a legacy to the Men of Letters, with deep intelligence and agile ability in the field. His wife was from the longstanding Campbell clan of hunters. Their marriage should have been that of singularity and little understanding, but the two seemed to have a way of living together. When they argued, they were happy. When they were discontent, they killed monsters. The business of their lives was to train their children and make them ready to benefit the world. Their solace was the belief that it was all worth while.

* * *

Mr. Winchester was one of the first to pay tribute to Gabriel the Archangel. Not that his wife doubted him much. Still, he felt the need to tease her more. Upon observing his eldest son cleaning a shotgun that the boy had modified himself, he remarked, "Nice looking piece there, Dean. I hope Gabriel the Archangel is mighty impressed by it."

"Do we care what Gabriel thinks?" Mrs. Winchester asked.

"Hell no," replied Dean. "Unfortunately, Rufus threatened to introduce us all at the stupid assembly next week."

"He'll do no such thing! Of course, Rufus is no idiot, either. He'll probably be trying to pair his nephews up with Gabriel," Mrs. Winchester remarked, half to herself.

"I doubt he'll introduce you, unless he's trying to be an ass," Mr. Winchester decided. "But I don't really see him trying to set up Gordon and Gabriel, either. He's not stupid, just like you said."

Mrs. Winchester did not feel that her husband's speech required a response, so she turned and began scolding one of her sons. "Adam, you okay, baby? Got a little cough?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Adam insisted.

"And if he's not, we can always take him to the angels for a miracle healing," Samuel offered helpfully.

"And meet them before the grand ball?" Mr. Winchester asked. "Oh, what _dreadful_ manners!"

"Yeah, wouldn't want to give them uppity angels the wrong impression of us," Dean said with a gallant smile, pumping his self-modified shotgun with one hand. "They might just think we're all a bunch of backwoods rednecks."

"When is the assembly?" Mr. Winchester wondered.

"Next week," Dean answered obediently. "Do we really hafta go, Dad?"

"'Fraid so, son. And you will have to meet the archangel because I went and paid my tribute to him this morning."

"I figured you'd cave," his wife sighed, lifting her hand elegantly to her elegant coif. "Well, I guess we're in for it now, fellas."

"Angels," Adam said, shaking his head with wonderment. "Good god. Ever know a hunter who paired up with one, Dad?"

Mr. Winchester nodded. "Yeah. Several, in fact. Can't say it's something I've ever wanted. I mean, I got your mom, you know. But they all seem happy with the arrangement. Still. Angels."

"Too right," Dean agreed. "Don't wanna go down that road, Adam."

"I think we should get to know the angels first," Samuel said. "Maybe they're not as bad as all that."

"Please, Sammy," Mrs. Winchester admonished gently.

"Get to know them all you like, Sammy," Mr. Winchester offered. "Just remember they're supernatural. And that makes them monsters."

"I'm not scared," Samuel said defiantly.

Mr. Winchester did not think much of this statement.

"Shit, do you think we'll have to ask them to dinner?" Mrs. Winchester wondered aloud.

The rest of the evening was spent in speculation about whether or not angels required sustenance.

* * *

As to the exact nature of Gabriel the Archangel, Mrs. Winchester and her sons could not draw a description from Mr. Winchester, and no amount of pestering on their part could induce him to be explicit. They tried different tactics of supposition, direct questioning, rumor mongering, and eventually they all four attacked him at once to find out exactly what they were up against, but all in vain. It was their neighbor, Lady Harvelle, who eventually supplied them with all they needed to know.

"Jumped up little prick if you ask me," Lady Harvelle muttered over her spiked coffee.

"John won't say anything, the rat bastard," Mrs. Winchester opined.

"Just goes to show what a dick the guy must be," said Dean from his place at the workbench where he was studiously cleaning his favorite Glock with the honorable Miss Jo Harvelle, a good friend and daughter of Sir and Lady Harvelle.

"Daddy said that he's small enough for me to pick up and swing around," Miss Harvelle confided, polishing her sidearm to a high-gloss shine.

Mrs. Winchester and Lady Harvelle discussed the possibility of inviting such a personage to Longbourn for dinner, and both agreed that it would be only polite-"An ounce of pretention is worth a pound of manure, Mom," Dean politely reminded his mother—and an invitation was issued from both families for different nights.

The plans turned out to have been in vain, however, as both invitations were regrettably declined as Gabriel was headed into Sioux City to retrieve a group of friends. Word was that Gabriel would bring a garrison of twelve angels and seven humans, and the hunters of both Longbourn and Harvelle Lodge lamented the amount of angels, but when the night of the assembly arrived, it was only five figures all together: four angels and one human.

Gabriel was a pleasant and open character who charmed all within his grasp, and his two "Brothers" were considered to be quite kind and gentleman-like. The "sister" angel and her companion were thought to be a striking pair, both with bright red hair and dark eyes, more like sisters in appearance than companions. It was the angel Castiel who caught the attention and fancy of many in the neighborhood, however. He was tall and had dark hair and blue eyes that seemed to be made of cobalt. Admiration soon turned to disgust, however, when Castiel proved to be cold and emotionless, more interested in protecting Gabriel than mingling with the hunters.

Mrs. Winchester was particular in her vehemence against him, as one of his snubs was directly related to her eldest and favorite son, Dean.

Dean had been regaling a few of the hunters with a very humorous tale of an echidna hunt he had led both of his brothers on in Washington the previous year while Sam was entertaining Gabriel by grappling with him in the sparring ring. As Dean wound up his narrative, Sam tapped out and Gabriel approached Castiel.

"What's up, bro? Wanna try getting in the ring with a hunter or five? You know what Balthazar says, the more the merrier."

"I would rather not, Gabriel," said he. "Humans hold no challenge for my superior strength, and I can easily outlast any of them. Besides, I'm not as interested in showing off as you are."

"You just suck the fun out of everything, dontcha, baby bro? Come on, some of these guys are really buff, and you gotta hike up your skirt every now and then and just have fun."

"You are grappling with the only hunter who looks as though he would present a challenge and he hardly lasted four rounds with you," Castiel remarked, looking over at where Samuel was toweling off a quite magnificently defined chest.

"He's pretty difficult to wrestle, Cassie. I mean, all I want to do is stare at him…hey! He has a brother. Right over there. I bet you could try grappling with him. He's pretty darn hot."

Castiel turned and stared at Dean, who was taking no inconsiderable amount of interest in the passing conversation, but was attempting quite valiantly to appear disinterested. "If you mean the oaf attempting to eavesdrop casually on our conversation, then you have misread me entirely. He is strong, I suppose, for a human, but not enough to tempt me into making a fool of both of us before the entire room. I really don't feel like giving barely-evolved multi-cellular organisms entertainment at my expense, and I certainly am not interested in singling out their local hero to add consequence to the indignity. Go back to making a spectacle of yourself with your partner. I'm sure he won't thank you for it in the morning."

Gabriel had taken Castiel's advice to heart, and Dean was left with a not very charitable feeling towards the angel, though he regaled several audiences with a reenactment of the speech over the next week.

The evening on the whole ended up being a success for the entire Winchester family as Mrs. Winchester was able to see her middle son admired and singled out by a celestial being. Samuel did not voice out loud his feelings about being singled out, Dean often brought up the subject in order to gratify him. Adam had heard himself called a protégé and had overheard some speculation about whether or not he might surpass Samuel in height or Dean in skill, and Dean had the great happiness of having been once again a favorite amongst his peers.

Mr. Winchester had not been at the party, but was waiting up rather anxiously to hear what his dear family might say with regards to the evening. He wondered if his wife's expectations might have been met with regards to the angels, or whether she might come away as disappointed as he rather hoped she might be after seeing how little prospect the angels might have towards their boys.

"I can't believe it," said she as she entered the room, "I just can't fucking believe that little shit archangel…John, he made Sammy grapple with him. Grapple! Twice! I wish you had been there, I'm sure you could have put a stop to the whole mess."

Mr. Winchester set his book aside and gave his espoused his full attention. "Grappling? With Sammy? I hope you did us proud, son! I bet that son of a bitch was stronger than eighty horses."

"Eighty horses and their jockeys," Samuel agreed.

"Couldn't believe the amount of sweat pouring off of this one," Dean commented, helping himself to a finger of his dad's best scotch. "Must have been pretty embarrassing."

"Yeah, speaking of embarrassing, wait until you hear what that jumped up little fairy angel Castiel said about _our_ Dean."

Mr. Winchester begged his wife to continue her story, which she did with interjections from her sons as they made sure Mr. Winchester felt the full weight of the sleight they had been subjected to.

"I'm sure we were all so much better off before these stupid little feather dusters rolled into town," Mrs. Winchester finished, draping herself over her husband's knees. "When do you think they'll leave?"

"We can only hope soon," Mr. Winchester said, patting her shoulder.

"If you two are going to start sucking face, we're going to bed," Dean decided, bidding his dear parents a fond goodnight.

"Yeah, catch you later, meatheads," Adam tenderly replied.

"Night Mom. Dad," Samuel called as he followed his brothers up the stairs.

"Fucking angels," Mr. Winchester growled. "Fucking angels."

**Merryton Assembly is pretty much my favorite scene, so I hope I did it justice. **


	2. Chapter 2

When Dean and Samuel were alone, the former, who had been reserved in his disapprobation of Gabriel openly, expressed his true feelings about the celestial being.

"He's such a bag of dicks," said Dean, throwing a silver knife expertly into the very heart of a human-shaped dummy. "I can't believe he showed off like that with you, just to make sure we all know he's stronger then our strongest member. Talk about your pissing contest…"

"I was really shocked when he asked me to grapple a second time," Samuel admitted.

"Were you? 'Cause I was surprised he didn't challenge the entire town at once, that bastard."

"You know, considering the number of people we've hated without reason, and the pranks we've pulled in our time on folks we actually love, I'm sort of glad these angels are douchey. It just sort of makes things easier," Samuel mused.

"Fuckin' A, man."

"You know, Dean, you really do have a tendency to hate people first and ask questions later, but in this case, I think you're right. These angels are pretty stupid."

"You saying I judge people a little too harshly?"

Samuel could not contain his mirth at his brother's comment. "Dude, do you like anyone outside of the family? Think about it."

"I like Jo and Ellen," said he. "Look, I just know the crap that's out there in the world, and most of the time, it's just not worth it. Besides, the more you get attached, the better chance someone has of dying. Any zombie movie'll tell you that."

Samuel listened to his brother with amusement, sure that Dean did not feel such uncharitable emotions so very strongly. In his mind, the elder brother had learnt to place reward over risk, else he would not have become so close with Bobby Singer, a favorite who lived in the village and whom the boys treated as a much beloved uncle.

As for the angels, they were a respectable group of warriors who, excepting for Gabriel, had not been on the earth for a very long time, merely a few hundred years, and had yet to acclimate themselves to interaction with humans. They were proud and often forgot that the earth had been created by their fathers for the humans, and not for the angels.

As for Gabriel himself, he was here on orders from his Father, looking for a home base for the garrison he hoped to establish. Netherfield had been directed to him quite by accident by an acquaintance, and Gabriel had found it suited his needs exactly with the number of rooms and extensive grounds that he hoped to fill with hunters for his brothers and sisters.

An angel called Uriel was to come and keep watch over the group and help run the garrison, as he had prior experience in such an endeavor. It was explicit that if he completed this task successfully, he would be allowed a garrison of his own, and Uriel was a very ambitious angel.

As for the relationship between Gabriel and Castiel, there was such a disparateness of character between the two to have incited disgust on both sides, and yet each held the other in high esteem. Gabriel was endeared to Castiel precisely for his carefree attitude and easy manner. Castiel was an oddity to Gabriel for his stark demeanor and reservedness, though the latter viewed him with a great deal of affection and warmth. While Castiel was a more adept fighter and had a greater power of insight and command, Gabriel was able to interact with more ease.

The way they spoke of the Merryton assembly was suited to each character. Gabriel enjoyed himself, the company, and the food. He had liked everyone he met and felt that he had been liked in return. Castiel, by contrast, required no food, did not enjoy the prospect of interacting with humans, and had not received any pleasure from them. Samuel Winchester, he admitted, was a powerful human, though he smiled too much.

Anna and Samandriel agreed that the younger Mr. Winchester was a fine specimen of humanity, and Gabriel felt their approbation and decided he might like the boy as much as he wished.

* * *

Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a small family that the Winchesters were quite intimate with. Sir William Anthony Harvelle had been a hunter in long standing with the National Hunters Society and had been elevated through its ranks and granted knighthood (which was not at all the same in America as it was in England) which he enjoyed for the teasing it garnered him from Mr. Winchester. Sir William felt his distinction quite acutely, particularly when his dear friend was planning a hunt and insisted that the good knight must remain safe at home, lest his title turn to dust on a tombstone. Still, Sir William as an adept leader and he could bring unity to the hunters in a way that few others before him had done.

Lady Harvelle was a kind and compassionate woman, not disinclined to society and intelligent enough to be of use to Mrs. Winchester in times of need. The only child, Miss Jo Harvelle, was a particular intimate of Dean's and they often fought and hunted together.

The misters Winchester and Miss Harvelle must meet following a ball and discuss it, it was a necessity, and the morning after said ball found Lady and Miss Harvelle in the drawing room of Longborne, cups of tea in hand, debating the particulars.

"What the hell is this crap?" Jo muttered, spitting her tea out into her cup.

"Some hoodoo weeds Dad bought off the local witch doctor," said Dean. "Supposed to make you smell bad to angels."

"Oh."

"Joanna Beth, can you watch your dirty mouth?" her mother gently rebuked. "Besides, you were Gabriel's first choice of sparring partner, you probably need that shit more than anyone."

"He might have chose me first," said Jo, "but I think he liked his second choice better."

Samuel frowned when Dean puckered his lips at him.

"Fucking little archangel rat bastard," Mrs. Winchester remarked rather unkindly. "And what was this that you heard, Jo?"

"Oh, you mean what Mrs. Robinson asked Gabriel?"

"Yeah, I never got the full story."

"Mrs. Robinson asked Gabriel if he was having fun, and Gabriel said that he was enjoying himself. So Mrs. Robinson asked him who he liked best so far, and he said, "Samuel Winchester without a doubt!""

"Ugh!" Adam exclaimed, giving Samuel an affectionate pat on his head. "He probably liked Sammy's long, luxurious hair."

Samuel swatted his brother's hands from his person playfully. "He's not so bad once you get to know him."

"Get to know him, Sammy?" Asked Dean. "Are we getting to know him?"

"At least I overheard something kind," Jo said. "Unlike Dean. Poor barely-evolved Dean!"

"Please, Jo, he thinks enough of himself as it is," cried Mrs. Winchester. "And we don't need to think of that stupid little feather duster any more than we already have."

"Gabriel says he's really quite nice once you get to know him," said Samuel.

"Yeah, well, who wants to get to know him?" answered Dean.

"Never grapple with him, Dean," said his mother. "Don't give that little shit the time of day."

"I promise to never fight with Castiel," promised Dean most sincerely.

"I guess he has a right to be the way he is," mused Lady Harvelle. "I mean, it's not like Dean could have beat him anyway, and don't give me that look, boy, you know it's true. Those angels have power we humans can only dream of. In a way, he was just sparing the both of you humiliation."

"I just wish he could have given me the chance to say no myself, you know?"

* * *

The hunters of Longbourn soon paid tribute to the angels of Netherfield, and the visit was paid in kind. The angels grew more and more fond of the elder Winchester brothers and Samandriel and Adam soon found they had some little common ground for discussion while their elder relations determinedly stared each other down. It was with growing alarm that Dean noticed Gabriel continued to single his younger brother out and actually appeared to admire him. This admiration softened the other angels towards the tall man, though Dean noted that Uriel, who stood silent and mean during their meetings, did not seem to enjoy Samuel's company quite as much as the others did, and Dean found fault with him for it.

"Not that I want another angel being nice to Sammy," Dean said to Jo one day. "I just can't believe that someone as sweet and kind as Sam doesn't have a friend everywhere he goes. If it was me, I'd get it."

"Uriel's an asshole and that's all there is to it," was Jo's succinct reply. "He sees Gabriel growing attached, and he doesn't like it. In a way, you could thank him because he has _your_ best interest at heart. I mean, you don't want Gabriel binding himself to Sam, do you?"

Dean would very much rather Gabriel did not bind to Samuel, and yet he could not reconcile Uriel's apparent disapprobation. "It's not like Sammy encourages him, you know. Uriel has to see that. I don't see why he has to take his anger out on my little brother just because he doesn't like what his older brother is doing. Besides, isn't Gabriel his boss? He should be licking his boots, not standing around scowling at everyone."

"We can't control how people respond, Dean. Uriel is probably taking his dislike of the situation out on Sam because he can't do it to Gabriel."

"Bag of dicks," was all Dean would reply.

"An angel binding to a human isn't something they'd enter into lightly. I've been reading about it lately, and it makes the angel vulnerable for a long time afterwards. I'm sure Gabriel wouldn't just grab Sam and try to do it right away, you know? I'm sure that by the time he's ready to make up his mind, it'll be too late and Sam will be gone somewhere else. Time flies differently for angels than it does for us."

Dean gave an elegant grunt at this assessment, but hope sparked in his chest and he began to be more observant of his brother when in company with the archangel.

As Dean observed the archangel's interactions with his dear brother, Dean was unaware that he had become the object of some scrutiny from quite an unexpected quarter. The angel Castiel had at first barely noticed Dean as anything other than a hairless ape, and had enumerated the human's faults to Uriel without scruple. After he had found that the hunter had hardly a redeeming quality, he found himself struck by Dean's eyes. Castiel had at first found this admission, only to himself of course, to be quite mortifying, but it stood that he found Dean's eyes to be quite attractive. They were bright green and expressive, fringed by light brown lashes that made them look bigger and wider than they actually were. And while he could clearly see that the hunter's form was not quite symmetrical, he had to admit that when he dressed in something other than dirty old jeans and no fewer than four layers, the natural shape of the man was slim, well-built, and pleasing to watch. And while his manners would be welcoming only to a porcupine, Castiel found himself entranced by the way he easily dug to the heart of any matter with his quick intelligence and eye for detail. Of all this, Dean was perfectly unaware. To him, Castiel was an angel who made himself disagreeable no matter where he went, and who had thought him too weak to grapple with.

Castiel began to wish to engage Dean in some form of conversation, and so as a way to find common ground began to listen to him speak. "What does that fucker think he's doing, eavesdropping on me all the time?" Dean groused to Jo. "What exactly did he think Garth and I were talking about that he needed to listen to us?"

"You'd have to ask him; I don't know the thought processes of angels," was all Miss Harvelle would say.

"If he does it again, I'm calling him out. Little weasel. He's probably trying to make fun of me again."

Seeing the angel in question standing close by, Miss Harvelle defied Dean to broach the subject to him, and never one to back down from a direct challenge, Dean turned to the angel and said, "Hey, Cas, what'd you think about Garth's research into the mines at the edge of town?"

"I found his research to be sound, and I felt that you seemed enthusiastic about a hunt for gnomes. But then you are a hunter, I must suppose that such lines of conversation would be very engaging to you."

"Don't think much of us, do you?"

"On the contrary, I find your energy invigorating."

"That so."

"How about we give Dean a chance to show off his knife skills, Castiel?" queried Miss Harvelle, not mistaking that Castiel might very much wish to see Dean working hard physically. "Dean, wanna hit some targets?"

"You little bitch, I'mma knife you," Dean whispered intimately to Miss Harvelle, hoping that the angel didn't hear. "You know I don't have to show off. Unlike some people."

Miss Harvelle worked at the corner where she kept her practice dummies and arranged them all before an obstacle course. "Come on, Dean. It'll be fun."

Dean ceremoniously shucked his heavy leather jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his soft cotton shirt. His knives, sharpened well, were always about his person. He completed the obstacle course in record time, his targets smarting from well-placed blades, and then he happily relinquished the floor to others who might wish to show off their skill. If he thought to cool Castiel's scrutiny, however, he was quite mistaken. While other hunters may have hit the target better or completed the course faster, they had none of Dean's latent skill, nor his grace and economy of movement. Castiel felt very much by the end of the demonstration that he might happily watch Dean Winchester throw knives for the rest of his days.

So engrossed was Castiel in watching Dean's easy interaction with others that he did not perceive Sir William Harvelle standing near by him until the man began to speak. "Great day, ain't it, Castiel? I love watching the young hunters work on their skill. It shows how well we train."

"Any savage can fight," Castiel murmured.

"Gabriel's not so bad," said Sir William, pointing out that the archangel had joined the group. "I'm sure you'd do yourself proud."

"I only fight when absolutely necessary," was Castiel's reply. "I do not find that the full force of my ability is often welcome when viewed by humans, so I attempt to show it off as little as possible."

"But you have to practice your moves. Stay in shape."

Castiel gave a slight bow of his head in acquiescence.

The groups began to break off into sparring partners, and Gabriel once again asked Sam to practice with him. The gentlemen removed their shirts and the ladies stripped down to what was decent as someone set a vinyl on a phonograph and the dulcet tones of AC/DC's "Back In Black" wafted through the room. At that moment, Dean came moving toward them on some other purpose, but Sir William couldn't help but stop the boy and bring him to Castiel's attention.

"Don't you want to spar, Dean? Whaddaya say, Castiel? How about you try Dean on for size." And here he gave the young man a push towards the angel.

"I would be pleased to spend a round or two in the ring with Dean," was Castiel's polite reply.

"Dude, I'm good, but thanks. I was actually trying to get away from the sparring."

"But Dean! Castiel _wants_ to spar with you. And he never wants to spar with anyone."

"Castiel is just so damned polite, ain't he?"

"Of course he is! Who wouldn't want to spar with you! If I were ten years younger and in better shape, you can bet I'd be trying to get you on your back."

Dean raised one eyebrow at his neighbor and walked away without comment, the sounds of Sir William's chuckling making his neck turn red. The rejection did not upset Castiel in the least. He in fact found Dean's resolve to not dance a welcome relief. He felt sure that the young hunter understood how vulgar such a display would be before such an assembly, and was sure that the young man would rather not make a spectacle of himself.

"I'm pretty sure I know what you're thinking," Uriel said, coming up behind Castiel and placing his hands on his shoulders.

"I doubt it," Castiel answered.

"You can't believe we're forced to stick around this rotting planet and these hairless apes all in the name of the Father."

Castiel pointedly ignored Uriel's poor manners and near blaspheme of the Father's creation. "Not at all. I have been more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the great pleasure that a pair of fine eyes in the face of a handsome hunter can bring."

"You have got to be shitting me. Who is it?"

"Mr. Dean Winchester."

"Mr. Dean Winchester," spat Uriel. "Didn't see that one coming a mile away. Seriously? That guy is all brawn and no brains. So when are you going to bind with him?"

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "I might have known you would fly to that exact conclusion. Can I not admire him for what he is without wishing to bind myself to him?"

"No, as a matter of fact, you can't. You know how the Father created these bonds. If you admire him, then you will bind with him. And then you get to deal with his entire, enormous, stupid family for the rest of your life."

Uriel continued to regale Castiel with snapshots of his future life, and Castiel listened with perfect indifference to what he was saying. It mattered not as he felt not that pull that he had been assured he would feel when he met The One. And as Castiel was silent, Uriel's wit flowed long.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, I'm breaking formation from the book just a bit. I can't go everywhere I want to go if I follow chapter-by-chapter, so this is probably going to be a little closer to the timeline of the mini-series (Colin Firth) than the books at this point. I actually do have a clear direction with where I am going, and I'm really pretty excited about it. I can tell I'm the only one, but that's cool. I just like writing. And I'm having a lot of fun with this one. I know the beginning got off to a rocky start, but I definitely think I've picked up the narrative here. **

**If you're reading, I really appreciate it. Really. **

**Still not the droid you're looking for. **

Mr. Winchester's territory consisted of a good lateral chunk of the Midwest, as well as a bit of the west coast that had come to him by default when an old hunting friend died. Mrs. Winchester had a bit of territory as well that was ample for her own hunting needs, but that was uncertain as to whether or not it would pass to her sons.

Neither had siblings, though they had managed to create familial bonds with an older hunter called Bobby Singer, whose territory was in South Dakota and whose principal residence was in Sioux Falls, and Rufus Turner who was a bit of a recluse and who made his home in Meryton.

The village of Longbourn was only a short walk to Meryton, and the boys of the house often found themselves walking back and forth throughout the week to see Mr. Turner and listen out for information that might prove useful on a hunt. The library was also in town, and the boys often paid homage to the building, whether looking to complete research or for a new novel to divert their attention. Samuel was the one who went the most, and he always stopped in to see Mr. Turner for the news and gossip to take home to his family. On this day, he returned from Meryton with the news of a demon regimen that had decided to take up residence in a neighboring city, not twenty miles from Longbourn.

Now the boys had need to visit the town nearly every day to learn more from Rufus as his spies returned to him from their reconnaissance. New angels were being dispatched throughout Kansas to keep an eye on such a situation, and Mr. Singer even mentioned the possibility of coming from South Dakota to help out. Dean and Samuel both felt a lot of excitement about these developments, and they often talked animatedly about hunting demons.

Hearing their excitement, Mr. Winchester couldn't help but observe, "Are you idjits really _hoping_ to fight demons? Do you even understand what you're up against? And they're bringing more angels into the town. God almighty, and yes, I understand the irony of that epithet, but what are you thinking?"

"They're wanting to get their feet wet, John," replied his lady a little coolly. "Don't deny them the opportunities you've had."

"I want my boys safe, Mary."

"Me too. But you know they're going to want all available hunters in on this. Besides, when they get to be our age, they'll know better than to be excited about a hunt."

"And what about all the new angels?" continued he, ignoring her interjections. "More angels means more hunters vulnerable to binding. What if it's one of our boys? I think we should send them to Bobby rather than Bobby coming here."

Mrs. Winchester was not able to reply as a missive was delivered from Netherfield for Samuel.

"Oh good God, what does it say?" Mrs. Winchester asked of him when he was finished reading it.

"Hey, Sammy, wanna come on down-a my house and have lunch with me and my bros? Get here as soon as you can tomorrow morning and we can have a great time. Signed Gabriel."

"Little rat bastard," Mrs. Winchester lamented.

"You sort of have to go, don't you, Sam?" Adam asked.

"If he doesn't go, it'll be a huge insult to the angels," Dean affirmed.

"I guess I'm gonna need to borrow the Impala, Dad," Samuel said.

Mr. Winchester shook his head. "Wish I could, Sammy, but the block cracked last week while I was chasing after that chimera, and the new one hasn't come in. You're going to have to either walk or take the bike."

"I guess I'll take the bike," Samuel decided. "I sure hope it doesn't rain."

* * *

Rain it did, unfortunately, and even more unfortunately for Samuel, he was attacked by a band of demons on his way, and while they did no lasting damage to him, apparently one had managed to force him to drink her blood, and he was now tainted with it. Dean received the shortest of messages from Samuel, whose handwriting was rather erratic in his present state, that read, "Hey, Dean, it's bad. It's so bad. Blood on fire. Don't come. Don't see me like this…please…too much…" and the rest of the words were lost to obscurity and smudges.

"Fucking demons!" Mr. Winchester raged, slamming his book down on the table. "They're the only thing worse than angels out there!"

"Dad, I'm gonna go to him," Dean said, already pulling on his jacket. "I'll walk with Adam so we'll be safer."

"Why? So all of my sons can get infected with demon blood? You'd both better stay here."

Adam was likewise dressing for the outing. "We'll be okay, Dad."

"The new block should be in tomorrow…can't you wait until then?" Mr. Winchester was not the sort of father to put his children into unsafe situations if he didn't have to.

"You boys have your anti-possession charms?" Mrs. Winchester asked, outfitting them with knives, salt rounds, and holy water.

"We're good, Mom."

"No, you're not. You're going to give us heart attacks. Now you go straight there and stay until Dad or I come for you, got it? And if things look bad, hole up at Rufus's. Whenever you get to where you're going to stay, you send us a note, got it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," both boys agreed.

Soon they were gone from the house and Mr. and Mrs. Winchester clung to each other, well aware that they were forced to allow their sons to walk away. They knew that they could not keep them close by at all times.

Adam and Dean met with no opposition on their way to Netherfield. It seemed that whatever happened the previous day had beaten back the demon threat at least for the time being. They found the angels and the one human sitting in the dining room. Miss Bradbury was eating her breakfast, and the angels were talking tactical opposition.

Adam and Dean's queries after their brother were answered, and soon they were showed to the room where Samuel was being held as the demon blood worked its way out of his system. Gabriel left them alone for a while, and Dean looked his brother over.

Samuel was flushed and sweaty, his skin a waxy texture. His shirt had been removed, and he was tied down as he writhed in some sort of fever. Dean poured water into a basin and used a cloth to wipe his brother down. Adam tenderly stroked his brow and murmured words of encouragement.

"We're right here, asshole. God, what'd you go and do that for? Jeez, Sam…"

Dean nudged Adam away. "Hush up, jerkwad. It's okay, Sammy. We're right here."

"Of course we're here," Adam agreed. "Shit, Sam. We're so worried about you."

"Don't touch my brother!" Samuel cried out in his fever. "Don't you dare touch my brother you black eyed bitch! Adam! Run, Adam!"

Adam reached down and rubbed his hand tenderly over Sam's where it was tied to the headboard. "I'm okay, I got away," the boy assured his brother.

Gabriel came in soon afterwards to answer any questions the brothers might have.

"He'll be all right," said the archangel. "Once the demon blood works its way out, he'll be fine."

"Why do I sense a colossal "but" coming in here?" Dean wondered.

"But it's going to be a long hard road. He'll probably always want to drink the demon blood, unless…well, it will always be a struggle for him.

"Well, we'll make sure he's not going to be tempted," Dean said. "We can take care of him.

Gabriel nodded. "I figured. Look, why don't you guys stay here while he detoxes. I'll send Cassie and Alfie for your clothes and weapons."

"Fine," Dean agreed. "Thanks, I mean that, Gabriel. I appreciate it."

* * *

Later that evening, Dean and Adam were drawn from Sam's unconscious side by a promise of dinner. Angels had no need of sustenance, though Gabriel appeared to enjoy sweets and Castiel appeared to be sipping tea. The only other human in the house was Miss Bradbury, and Dean was quite curious to know her better.

"You aren't a hunter," he commented as he helped himself to the repast.

"No, I'm a hacker," the young lady replied. "I'm sort of your Jill of all trades when it comes to electronic B&E."

"And how did you get with Anna?"

"Anna is killer at D&D. I swear she charms her dice…anyway, she was in a guild with me. Had no idea she was an angel, though." And then with a fond look, "Well, I knew she was a figurative angel. Just…not,  
you know, _literally_ with the wings and halo and all."

"I had no idea angels played Dungeons and Dragons," said Adam. "That's some _Dogma_-level shit there."

Miss Bradbury allowed her mirth to bubble forth. "I have no doubt that God is out there playing ski ball, but yeah. Anna plays. She's good at it."

"And how is your brother, Mr. Winchester?" Uriel asked, his voice controlled and deep.

"He's still out of it," said Dean, poking at his stew.

The rest of the meal was spent discussing plans for the middle Mr. Winchester whenever he awoke, and some ideas for eradicating the demon threat. Dean felt very uncomfortable during this time, and believed Gabriel to be the only angel present who truly cared whether Samuel emerged from his illness unscathed. For this reason alone, Dean felt some measure of affection for the angel, though he was still opposed to any continued attentions from that quarter.

Once he felt it right to excuse himself and return to Samuel's bedside, he did so, tenderly stroking the boy's face with a cooled cloth, murmuring encouragement to him. That Samuel must remain at Netherfield for the time being was a certainty. There was no point in moving him, and in his weakened state, even Dean must admit that in a house with angels was the safest place for him.

Downstairs, free of any Winchesters, Uriel felt no constraint in flowing forth with abuse for the brothers.

"We invite the vile, debase creatures into our house, Gabriel?"

"Cool your jets, Uri. Sheesh. They're good kids, and you know how I feel about Sam. This demon blood situation may force me to approach him even sooner than I had originally intended, and I don't need your negativity."

"Gabriel, all respect, but your setting your sights on a Winchester is practically foolhardy. Their family has been in Letters for generations, and his mother is a Campbell! Just look at how rash and headstrong this family is. Can you imagine walking for miles out of their way in demon-infested territory, just because their brother has got a little blood in him?"

"Uriel, you overstep," Castiel remarked quietly. "Gabriel has made a choice, and we should rejoice with him for it."

"You can honestly tell me, Castiel, that you approve of the antics of the other Winchesters?"

"Of course not. They should have accepted that their brother was safe with us," Castiel said quickly.

Uriel gave a harrumph as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I suppose this little escapade may have effected your admiration for Dean's fine eyes."

"Not at all. I thought his eyes looked quite remarkably green after his long walk."

Upstairs, Adam and Dean were conferring as to the best course of action for the evening. "We can't just stay up here," Adam sighed, rubbing circulation into Samuel's bound hands.

"Why not? You don't think the angels actually want us downstairs? Gabriel was the only one who really said anything to us at dinner."

"Samandriel—Alfie—had a short conversation with me, but other than him, it's true that the angels don't seem to care much for us. Still, if we just sit up here, it's like we're being rude or something."

"You're right. Damn! Well, you go down for a little while. Maybe Charlie is playing Magic or D&D or something and you can join her. I'll…I'll read to Sammy. He might like that."

"There's a pretty good library downstairs. I heard Alfie say that they collect diaries from the Letters and Hunters."

"Sounds like a plan."

The brothers approached the lower levels, and found that Miss Bradbury and Anna were indeed setting up a tabletop game and immediately invited both brothers to play. Dean excused himself from the diversion, but set Adam forward, and Alfie agreed to play opposite the youngest Winchester. When Dean expressed an interest in a book to read to Samuel, Castiel put himself forward and offered to fetch whatever Dean wished from the library.

"I'd rather take a look myself," said Dean. "If you'll just direct me, I'll get out of your hair."

Castiel reached a hand towards his coif as though he did not understand the figure of speech, and Dean found himself amused by that thought as he followed the angel to the library.

"Everything we have that is not currently being read is just here," Castiel offered, waving his hand over the books. "Hunters give us their journals, and we have collected many tomes throughout history. I have been reading many myself, as I have only just recently taken a vessel, and I find that the events when read through a human perspective lend me a great deal of insight I might not have had before."

"Vessel?" Dean wondered. "That guy you're wearing was pretty nice to let you have his body."

Castiel touched his palms to his chest and nodded. "Yes, he was a very devout man. He prayed that I might take him."

Dean smiled and winked. "I get that a lot too, cowboy. This one looks good." He saluted as he left the room, his mind in a whirlwind of emotions over the deep civility that Castiel had shown him. Were he not certain the angel hated him, he would have a difficult time interpreting his attention as anything other than interest. But he was certain that Castiel looked to mock him for some reason.

As for Castiel, he was beginning to feel how dangerous his attentions towards Dean might be. He found the young man to be most intriguing and chastised his weakness where he was concerned.

* * *

The following day received word from Mr. and Mrs. Winchester, who were pleased that their sons were someplace so very safe, for they themselves were out on a hunt with Bobby Singer, who was sure he had found a grouping of demons and wished for all able-bodied hunters to help him take them down. Uriel and Castiel both immediately wished to join them for the fight, and pressed Gabriel for permission to go, but were not granted that request.

"I need all y'all here," said the archangel. "We can't leave this entire town defenseless. They're taking most of the best hunters with them."

Indeed, both Harvelle parents were on their way, and it was supposed that Jo might stay at Netherfield with the angels, as she would rather not be on her own in the large house. She and her things were brought thither, and the Harvelles and Winchesters stayed just long enough to embarrass their children with their smotheringly fond farewells, which earned them many unhappy comments.

"Mo-om, I'm fine," declared young Adam as Mrs. Winchester once more went over the list of weapons she had brought for him.

"Is Sammy okay?" Mr. Winchester asked of his eldest, pulling him to a corner for a more private conference.

"He's still out, Dad. I'll send word as soon as he wakes up."

Mr. Winchester then eyed the tall, dark-skinned angel. "Watch out for that one, Dean. He has no love for humanity."

"Yeah, don't I know it. He's not too fond of angels, either. He treats everyone with the same bad attitude."

"Huh," Mr. Winchester mused. "I always figured angels were good to their own kind."

"I don't think he knows the meaning of the word "good." Don't worry about us, though. Gabriel keeps him in line."

"Good," Mr. Winchester decided. "I hate to leave you boys like this. Watch out for Jo, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

Gabriel and Uriel were having a very different sort of conference at this. "Are we to be besieged by every hunter in the country?" the angel groused.

"I can't leave the young girl unprotected," Gabriel reproached. "Alone in a house like that? She might as well pour sulfur all over her body and go out looking for the demons. She's safe here, and she's a friend of Sam's. That makes her important to all of us. Including you, in case that wasn't explicit."

Uriel looked like he might argue, but Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder. "Brother, please, do not argue with Gabriel. He is our leader and you know his high opinion of Samuel Winchester."

Uriel decided it best to not express his low opinion of the selfsame man.

As for Miss Harvelle, she was taken to a room by Anna and Miss Bradbury and settled in far away from the men in the house. Afterwards, they went on a walk around the grounds, pointing out the perimeter and the defenses against demons. As they walked, they happened upon Dean and Castiel, who were fortifying those wards together.

"Look at you two," Miss Harvelle teased Dean, taking his arm and turning him from the group. "You two done fucking each other with your eyes and ready to move onto a bed yet?"

Dean chastised his friend for the lewdness of such a speech. "Oh, shut up Jo-Jo. What about you? Ready to get your freak on with the angel and her concubine?"

"You know it!" Miss Harvelle demurred. "I hear angels are kinky in bed."

Dean laughed at this and turned back to the angels in question, following them back to the house. "I actually wouldn't mind finding that out, as long as soul binding wasn't a part of the equation."

They returned to the house to find out that Samuel was awake and asking for his brothers.


	4. Chapter 4

Samuel was better. Much better. He was awake and hungry and quizzing Gabriel and his brothers. The archangel felt that the first order of business must be restoring the young hunter's health by procuring him a thin broth from the kitchen. After two days unconscious, it was agreed that Samuel's stomach would not be trusted with the thick burger he requested. When he proved that he could eat and not be ill, he was given crackers and a bit of milk, and when that stayed down, he was allowed to dress and go down into the rest of the house.

Adam and Dean informed him of their parent's departure and the new war against the demons. Predictably, Samuel wished to join his parents at once, but Gabriel and Dean managed to show him how this was not possible.

"You drank demon blood, Sam," Gabriel said, his eyes sad. "You are going to lust after it for many months to come."

"No," Samuel protested. "No, that can't be true!"

"I have no reason to lie to you."

Samuel absorbed these words, like a poison in his heart. "Why would they do this to me? Why not just kill me?"

"I have a few theories, and so does Castiel. Charlie and Anna are working on research, and maybe we'll feel confident about sharing with you soon. I just don't want to come at you with half-formed speculation and scare you needlessly."

Dean was quite sure that he did not like the sound of that. "What do you mean, Gabriel? Why haven't you told me or Adam anything about this?"

"Again, Dean, I don't want to worry you guys for no reason."

Dean frowned at the archangel and placed a hand on Samuel's shoulder. He felt very sure that it was time he and his brothers got back to their own home, away from the angels. Particularly Gabriel and Castiel who seemed to be playing a game with their own rules, and then there was Uriel who did not have any apparent loyalties, not even to their Father, the one they call God. There was a difference that Dean noticed, when Castiel, Anna or Gabriel would say something about "The Father" or "Father," and when Uriel would practically sneer the word.

Gabriel was pretty flippant about most issues, but even he held a reverence about God. Castiel and Anna both obviously held to blind faith, and yet the other angel…There was no good in him. There was something in him that frightened Dean, and he wanted to leave all the more because of it. The goodness of the other angels contrasted so sharply with the careful evil of Uriel that it caused Dean to want to trust the others, and he simply could not do such a thing.

Still, he was forced to bide his time at Netherfield until Samuel was strong enough to move.

* * *

That night, after Samuel had bathed and changed clothes, the brothers Winchester repaired to the dining room with the rest of the house and Samuel was able to eat a full meal. Afterwards, they repaired to the drawing room where Miss Bradbury and Anna once again set up a tabletop game. The Winchesters were immediately offered to join, but Dean and Samuel declined, leaving Adam and Samandriel to make up the third and fourth members. Miss Harvelle also joined them, leaving the others to make their own way for the night.

Castiel and Dean both sat down with journals as Dean had become rather engrossed in the journal he had been reading out to Samuel during his illness, and Castiel felt it necessary to continue his human education. He rather wished he could beg Dean to augment his reading with more practical application, but he feared the hunter would rebuff any advances. And really, Castiel found it best to not pay the elder Winchester any more attention. His admiration for the human was already far too strong as it was, and more than Uriel had noticed. Gabriel was beginning to warn him as well. Well, warn wasn't precisely what Gabriel was doing. He seemed to be on Castiel's side. Castiel was rather sure Gabriel was the only member of heaven who would be, once they realized his interest.

Uriel paced the room, looking angry and stoic. He was always angry these days. Taking a vessel and being set on earth was not his idea of an acceptable assignment. Uriel much preferred heaven, and he chafed to be under the rule of anyone other than God Himself. Even Gabriel was an insult to Uriel, though he would never say such a thing. Not out loud. This was why Castiel was alarmed when his brother addressed Dean solicitously.

"Hey, Dean, wanna take a walk around the room with me? Better than sitting still all night," Uriel offered.

"Uh…nope, I'm good man. Thanks."

"I think you'd enjoy yourself," the angel said, giving Castiel a smile as if to say, "I can be nice."

Dean put a marker in his book and took a turn around the room with Uriel. Castiel watched them warily, wondering what his brother was up to. It was not his place to chastise him, but he would certainly bring this up to Gabriel.

"Why are you watching us so closely, brother? Did you want to join us?"

Dean looked very much like he'd rather Castiel join them, but Castiel was not about to play into whatever game Uriel wanted of him. "I do not think you truly wish me to walk with you," was all he said.

"Oh? And why not?"

"It seems that there is something particular that you wish to accomplish with Dean," Castiel replied, deciding not to mince words. "I believe that I would interrupt whatever that plan may be. You both should carry on just as you are."

Uriel laughed, a cold sound that set Castiel's teeth on edge and made him want to manifest his angel sword. But he sat still, as still as could be and simply stared back at his brother, his face impassive. He was not aware that to Dean, Castiel looked inanimate and dispassionate. As though he would not lift a finger to stop whatever nefarious plan his brother was concocting. They had started badly, and Dean did not generally change his opinions about people, and anyone wishing to gain his trust had to work hard enough as it was.

"By the way, Gabriel, did you mean what you told Mrs. Winchester about hosting a party for the neighborhood?" Uriel asked as they passed by the archangel.

"I think a nice diversion would be fun, considering the trouble brewing around us."

"But here? At our home base? Did you not think to ask the rest of us if we would enjoy such a thing?"

"If it's Castiel's delicate sensibilities you're worried about, Uri, then you must remember that the group of you are here to follow my orders, and Castiel has promised The Father to happily agree to anything I ask of him."

"You are not defending _me_, are you?" Castiel cried. "Gabriel may do what he likes with his own house."

"The parties these humans throw," Uriel sneered. "No offense, Dean."

Dean shrugged. "Hey, don't do anything on our account, man. We're good just kicking back here and reading."

"I do much prefer rational conversation to sparring matches and obstacle courses," said Castiel.

"But you want to branch out with your people skills, right?" asked Dean. "Perfect place to do it. Get out of your corner, meet some new people."

Castiel shifted in his chair, the first movement he'd made in over an hour. Dean almost flinched because of how unexpected it was.

"Quit trying to rile up Castiel, man," Uriel said to Dean. "He's too smooth for you."

"I'm not trying to rile him. Just trying to…loosen him up a smidge."

"Your idea of loosening him up is turning him more human. Castiel is a warrior; keep him out of your petty human ideas."

Castiel could hear no more. "Uriel, while your defense of me is not unwelcome, it is unnecessary. As Gabriel has said, I am here to do his pleasure, and he wishes for me to become more acquainted with human custom. This is what I will do. As for Dean, yes, I would appreciate improving my people skills. They are not…what Gabriel wishes them to be."

Dean regarded the angel. "And what do you wish?"

"To perform my Father's will, of course."

* * *

Dean was anxious to be home and applied to Rufus to help him with the scheme. The old hermit agreed to do what he could, and had his nephew follow him out to Longbourn to retrieve the Impala so Dean could drive himself, Adam, Samuel, and Miss Harvelle home. The angels were not happy about this arrangement, but could not stop the boys, and when the Winchesters found out what happened, they were equally displeased with regards of the loss of safety, though they felt more sanguine with their boys beyond the influence of the celestial.

There was very little news for Rufus to tell them beyond the news of the angel regimen that was moving closer, apparently under the direction of Michael himself. A few angels had already been in the town and had reportedly checked in with the archangel Gabriel, though Gabriel had not mentioned such a thing to the Winchesters while they were staying at Netherfield. This of course set Dean on edge, and he made a note of it for later.

There was an Inias and a Hester that Rufus had already met and spoken with, and there were rumors that Michael was simply waiting for a vessel to agree to him. Dean hoped that whichever vessel Michael had chosen would say no, even though another archangel might very well help in this fight.

The brothers decided to engage in all the activities they were used to engaging in, so the next morning found them training with Jo, followed by a bit of research before lunch, and then target practice until dinner. In all, Dean was optimistic that their life would be back to normal soon, even with Samuel's new demon blood issue.

A week later found the Winchester parents home and well with a few extra notches carved into their demon-fighting belts. Mr. Winchester was busy perusing his mail, and Mrs. Winchester was trying in vain to convince Dean to eat something other than pancakes and bacon for breakfast.

"Hey, Cousin Ash is coming to town!" Mr. Winchester commented, folding a letter over.

"Cousin Ash! Awesome!" said Adam decidedly. "I hope he still has his mullet."

"Business in front," began Dean, and then Samuel joined him in asserting, "party in the back!"

"He says that there's an angel in his part of town called Naomi who's throwing her weight around, and he's looking for some of you to go back with him."

"Maybe we should send Jo out," Dean suggested. "She's a good hunter, it'd be good to see her go on her own with someone like Ash. He'll take care of her."

Mr. Winchester observed his eldest son for a moment. "What about you, Dean?"

"What about me?"

"Why don't you go and visit Ash for a while too? See this Naomi for yourself, see what we're up against with her."

"I think we've got enough angels out here without going and looking for them, Dad, but if that's what you want, I'll go."

Mr. Winchester gave an elegant shrug. "Think it over. Let me know."

Ash, who was known by only that one name though he was not an angel as one might supposed from a person with a singular name, arrived at the Winchester residence in time for tea. A solitary name was not where Ash's singularity ended, either. The man was as contradictory as his hairstyle. A genius, he spent more time being removed from universities than he did attending them. He had no true occupation or source of income, yet he lived very well, and he claimed to enjoy beer, though he only drank Pabst Blue Ribbon. Thankfully, he drew the line at Budweiser.

The young misters Winchester enjoyed Ash's company, though they often found him to be a bit overwhelming after a while, and the Winchesters tended to enjoy their own company above all others to begin with. Still, they had looked forward to the visit and when Ash arrived, they immediately made him feel welcome and part of the family.

"Yo, cuzzies!" cried Ash when he entered the house.

"Ash!" Adam exclaimed, the first to greet him. "Dude, are you growing a goatee?"

Ash stroked his chin and upper lip. "Gotta try out new stuff. Ladies love the chin pubes, li'l man!"

Adam was somewhat mortified by this thought, for he had not begun to grow facial hair yet. And if his elder brothers' faces were any indication, he feared he may never move beyond the stubble phase.

Mrs. Winchester ushered Ash into the dining room where he happily greeted the other members of the family before beginning their repast with familial camaraderie.


	5. Chapter 5

**I just want to take a second and thank anyone that's taken the time to review, favorite or follow this story, and a special thanks to Danielle MJSH who shared on Twitter. That means a lot. I'm really enjoying writing it, so I hope you're enjoying reading it. I was telling my friend that the best part of this story to me is the Regency cant combined with midwestern profanities. It's not often, when you write, that you get to combine two such absurdities, and I hope you guys like it too. **

**-Still not the droid you're looking for**

Mr. Winchester was reserved in his conversation during dinner, but when it was over and the dishes had been removed and placed carefully in the washer, he broached the subject of Naomi and what she might mean for Ash and his team. Ash was quite eloquent with regards to her description, her hunting abilities, and her team of humans that had bound themselves to her angels. She had asked Ash to dine with her on several occasions and he had gone to her estate, unsure as to what her motives might be. That she was to be feared was a certainty. To what extent was still unknown. She was, however, quite attentive to all that Ash might do and was explicit in her recommendations regarding training, researching, obliteration, spell books, and, for some reason, recommended very strongly that Ash have shelves installed in one of his closets.

"Good god, she sounds like a right witch," declared Mr. Winchester. "How close is she to you?"

"Her house is just across the street from me."

"And how many angels does she have under her?"

"Full garrison. Twelve in all."

"And the humans?"

"Only eight so far. Her favorites are this angel called Ion and his companion, some chick named Bella Talbot."

"And what are they like?" wondered Dean.

"Ion's a big prick, and Bella is a spoiled princess bitch."

Samuel sighed. "That about sums them all up, I guess," but there was not as much conviction behind his words as there once might have been.

Mrs. Winchester gave an elegant chortle. "So what do they do together? Besides the obvious, I mean. Do they hunt?"

"I guess they do. They go out a lot and come back with hex boxes, but I don't know what they do with them. It's also been said that if you need anything at all, Bella can find it for you. I think she's pretty scary myself. Girl seems to be soulless."

"Maybe she is," mused Mr. Winchester.

"That'd be pretty awesome in its irony," agreed Ash.

After dinner, the family repaired to the living room to clean their weapons and look in the papers and on the internet for any paranormal activity that they may need to investigate. Ash read _The Weekly World News _until they were all laughing too hard to do anything else, and then ended the night with all of them working on cheating at poker against each other_._

#*#*#*#

Ash was a genius. There are few in this world to whom the title should be bestowed, but for Ash it was doubly true. It has been noted that the young man spent more time being thrown out of universities than he did attending them, but one must not believe his education to be deficient for this fact. Ash was more than capable of educating himself, and were he granted a title, surely he would have a PHD by now.

And though he was intelligent, he was not too hung up on his own ideas. He was confident without being conceited, above his company without rubbing it in their faces. He was sensible and wise, and though he did drink Pabst Blue Ribbon and sport a mullet, his taste in fighting styles was excellent. Until the Winchester had met Charlie Bradbury, Ash had been the greatest hacker of their acquaintance. A plan was already forming to introduce the two to each other.

To this end, it was agreed that the family should walk to Meryton to call on Mr. Turner, a scheme that may very well put them in the path of some party from Netherfield so that they could secure an invitation.

The town they found crawling with angels. Gabriel and Samandriel were talking with a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed man, their expressions nervous and upset. The Longbourn party immediately made their way over and were introduced. This was Michael the archangel, and Dean was by no means sanguine at the way he was looked over. Dean found himself looking around for Castiel, and upon seeing the young Seraph, gave him a slight nod. Castiel was staring at Dean with a new intensity that Dean wasn't quite sure of, but he found this look to be less disconcerting than the one currently being directed at him by Michael. Upon seeing this exchange, Michael turned to Castiel with a stern glare, and Castiel left the quarter. The entire exchange made Dean very unsure of himself, and he wished very much for a quiet corner and a punching bag so that he might work it out in his head on his own.

Soon Gabriel and Samandriel quitted their brother and the Longbourn party made their way into Mr. Turner's house where the old man had made latkes and kischkes to go along with their tea. He confirmed that Michael had found a vessel, and that the militia of angels was doing much to keep the surrounding demon infestation at bay. The news showed that hardly any demonic signs had manifest in over a week, and the hunters, though loathe to admit any good could come of the angels, were thankful that the tide seemed to have shifted in that particular battle.

Mr. Turner admitted to having invited the angels to dine with him that evening so that he could pay tribute, and begged his young charges to join him and keep the angels company. A party was usually welcome to the boys, but a party with angels was certainly a cause for alarm. Still, they felt it might be necessary to show good will, and their friend Gordon would be in attendance, so they agreed to the scheme.

The way home, Dean related to Samuel all that he had seen pass between Castiel and Michael. Samuel was equally unsure as to what it might mean, but they did speculate that perhaps Castiel was not good friends with Michael. Adam noted that Samandriel seemed less friendly with Michael's stoic presence, which of course opened him to much teasing from his brothers and cousin.

Ash for his part was simply happy to be a part of the party, for a party almost always meant beer, and beer to him was Pabst Blue Ribbon.

#*#*#*#

The elder Winchesters held no objections to their children and young cousin attending Mr. Turner's residence that evening, so the boys took the impala thither and found upon their arrival that Michael and several in his garrison had agreed to join them for the evening.

Dinner was soon served, and Ash was able to content himself with kielbasas, paprikas, kwumkies, dilled potatoes, and above all, Pabst Blue Ribbon. He admired the meal and Mr. Turner's resolve to keep kosher in these trying times, and Mr. Turner in turn regaled Ash with his latest Purim celebration where the name of Haman was not only met with noise makers, but with punches to the groin. The younger Winchesters still had the bruises to prove this. Ash in turn spoke of his own celebrations and his homemade menorah, constructed completely out of empty beer cans. Mr. Turner found this to be quite diverting, and soon the two were constructing the perfect Hipster Rosh Hashanah.

After dinner, they were all repaired to the drawing room and Michael approached Dean. Dean found that he had not been remembering Michael, or truly seeing him with any unreasonable amount of trepidation. This was a monster he could not fight, a creature with no known weaknesses. How was he to arm himself against it?

Every face turned from the archangel, but it was Dean's unhappy side that he eventually settled down against. Dean was currently engaged in a riveting game of Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots with Adam, and Michael felt it fine to address him while he was thus engaged.

"I know little of this game," the archangel admitted. "But I would be happy to play against you at the next turn."

Dean sighed. "Sure, man."

Michael began to ask Adam and Dean about Netherfield and how long the other angels had been in town.

"About a month now," Dean said.

"And how do you like them?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Gabe's all right. Uriel's a huge bag of dicks."

Michael laughed heartily at this. "Yes, Uriel does not get on even with his own kind. I do not imagine he has trouble making himself disagreeable to humans."

"Your family is fucked up, man," was all Dean would say.

"And what of Castiel?"

"What of him?"

"You seemed to know each other, is all."

Dean gave a little nod to Adam, who excused himself. "Cas is all right. He doesn't seem to like humans too much, either."

"This is not true in the least," Michael asserted as he settled himself in Adam's vacated seat and set his robot head back on the body. "But you seem surprised by this revelation."

"Cas doesn't have the best people skills."

"A lack of people skills does not translate to a lack of compassion. Indeed, Castiel often favors humans above his own brothers. I wanted him to be in my garrison, you know."

Dean wasn't sure what to make of this. "Why did he choose Gabriel, then?"

"I'm not sure. I'm more powerful. I think it's because Gabriel is more human friendly. He masqueraded as Loki for a long time, you know."

Dean glanced over at Samuel, who was talking animatedly with Adam about something. The two brothers seemed to have grown closer, and Dean was worried about why that might be.

"I know Gabriel is circling your brother. Samandriel is also interested in Adam, though I'm not sure he even realizes it yet. Do you understand Castiel's interest in you?"

Dean turned back to Michael. "And what's _your_ interest in me? Huh?"

Michael smiled back, and Dean hated him in that instance. "I'm not interested in binding with you, if that's what you mean."

Somehow, this admission did not comfort Dean. Neatly, he knocked the head off of Michael's blue robot, and left the table, his mind swimming with his new information. Gabriel wished to bind with Samuel. Well, that was not wholly unsurprising. And Adam and Samandriel liked each other. Also not entirely shocking. But Castiel? No, every memory, ever feeling revolted at such a revelation. And Michael's assertion that he did not wish to bind with Dean. That did not necessarily say that he had no other interest in the oldest Winchester. Simply that he did not wish to bind. But what other interest could he have? Dean wasn't sure. He wondered for a brief moment whether he could ask Castiel and get answers, but that hardly seemed likely. The angels tended to keep their cards close to their chests, however Castiel chose Gabriel over Michael.

In the end, Dean returned home and retired to his room, his mind too full of angels and archangels to court sleep properly.


	6. Chapter 6

The following day, Dean related to Samuel all that Michael had told him. Samuel, to Dean's sadness, did not refute that he was thinking very probably of accepting Gabriel's offer. Dean could not admit that he was not disappointed by this revelation, but Samuel did his best to set his brother at ease.

"It's not a death sentence, okay, Dean?"

"It's not…Sammy, they're angels!"

"Yeah, and Gabe's pretty decent. Even you have to admit it!"

"Being a decent…I can't even say person, Sammy! That's got nothing to do with it! You're talking about binding your life to an angel. Living hard with him, and then…what?"

Samuel sighed. "Dean, I'm going to hunt for the rest of my life anyway. To be paired up with an angel, someone who can keep me safe and heal me, who can extend my life force and who will love me and I'll love him…"

Dean found the room suddenly getting very close and stuffy. The dust was certainly becoming a problem. "What about me, Sammy? I thought it would be you and me?"

"You…you can say yes to Castiel when he asks you. And Adam can say yes to Samandriel. We can be a family. All three of us. We can be together."

The brothers were summoned from their workout room by the very people they were talking of. Gabriel and his company had come to issue a personal invitation to a ball at Netherfield. Samuel was very delighted to see Gabriel and greeted him warmly and Adam and Samandriel fell into deep conversation at the window seat. This left Castiel to Dean, and though Dean was burning to ask Castiel about all that Michael had revealed to him, he could not bring himself to say anything of import. As Castiel appeared out of sorts himself, the lack of conversation did not seem awkward at all.

In the days leading up to the party, Samuel spent more time with Gabriel, and Adam went to Netherfield several times to spend the afternoon with Samandriel, whom he began to call "Alfie," an endearment that Dean could not bring himself to enjoy or even tease his youngest brother about. Castiel remained aloof to Dean, and Dean wondered at the new change. Had he been asked earlier, he would have certainly claimed that Castiel was always aloof, but this new coldness showed him more and more that Castiel had given him some measure of preference, and he perversely missed it now it was gone. He wished to rail at Castiel, to call him out about it, to revel in the change, to be happy in it. He found he could not bring himself to do any of these things. He only wished the blue-eyed angel with the beautiful face would grace him with the same peculiar regard again.

Samuel and Adam were completely ignorant to the change that Dean perceived. Indeed, Castiel's regard was so slight, so imperceptible to all but Dean and perhaps Castiel's closest brother that no one knew but those two.

*#*#*#*

Dean had naturally expected Michael and all his militia to be in attendance at the ball, so he was surprised to find otherwise. He knew for a fact that the archangel had been invited, for Samuel had learned it from Gabriel. Gabriel did not seem wholly surprised at his brother's absence, however, and shrugged it off with all his good humor.

Seeing Castiel was difficult for Dean, though the angel seemed to have regained some of his good humor towards him. Castiel greeted him civilly and smiled in his small, enigmatic way, complimenting Dean's good looks that night, and Dean found himself taken in by the angel. He had missed that odd warmth from the man, that brightness in his blue eyes. He wondered if those eyes were bestowed by the body he inhabited, or if they were some angelic feature. The more he thought on it, Dean realized that Gabriel, Samandriel, Anna, and Michael all had remarkable eyes. Surely it must be an angelic trait? And he wished to know more, though his heart would not allow him to follow a line of thought that seemed to lead to folly.

The ball began, and Dean allowed himself to be led to the sparring ring by Ash, whom he soon had pinned to the mat. Ash laughed it off, then managed to pin Dean in the second round. The third round would determine the winner, and Ash, while not as strong as Dean, was proving a worthy opponent by his lithe quickness. Soon enough, however, Dean had him pressed to the mat with his broad chest, a smile about his face.

The smile continued as Dean toweled himself off and replaced his shirt, and Castiel found that he must approach the man. That smile he very much wished to have directed at him, and if he must throw a match in front of his entire garrison, it would be his.

In another room, secluded from the rest of the company, Samuel was having a very different go of things. Gabriel had begun as usual, teasing the man, touching him familiarly, and smiling in his winning way. Samuel could not turn away from the archangel, and soon found himself returning touches, smiles and jests. And then he found himself pressing the angel against a wall, holding his hands behind his back, and found himself in quite a way as to pay tribute to the lips that had been taunting him this month at least.

"Sammy," whispered Gabriel when the human lifted his head. "I knew you wanted me."

"I do, Gabe. God help me."

Gabriel smirked, his hands caressing and soft against Samuel's. "Stay with me, Sammy. You don't have to bind with me yet. But stay with me. Tonight?"

Samuel hesitated, the weight of the proposition hanging in the air. He could not deny that he wanted this very thing. "What would I tell my parents?"

Gabriel pulled away and raked his fingers through his long hair. "You're an adult, Sammy. Mommy and Daddy don't need to know everything you do, do they? I mean, what would you tell them if it was anyone else?"

"I'd at least point him out to them so they'd know where I was and who I was with. We all came here together. You know how they feel about you."

"But they don't understand. They don't know all that I can offer…even you don't know. Not yet."

"Then tell me! Why can't you trust me?"

"I trust you, Sammy. Dad knows I trust you more than anyone. More than my own brothers. Only Castiel is better to me than you are…"

"So?" Samuel felt himself beginning to flush with anger. "Just tell me, Gabe."

"Sammy, I want you to want me because…because it's your choice. There are certain things that…if you knew, you might decide to bind with me regardless of any hesitation you might have, and I want that hesitation gone first."

"How can I make an informed decision if I don't know the whole story? You're asking me for blind faith!"

"I'm asking you to make a decision with your heart rather than your head."

"I'd be a fool to do such a thing, Gabe. No one should ever do that."

"I don't want you to feel that I'm coercing you."

"I want to like you, Gabe. I want to so badly. I want to stay here and fuck you into next Tuesday…but when you say stuff like that, it makes me think that you have this whole agenda that you'll just never share with me, and I need you to be open with me!"

Gabriel crossed to his would-be lover and took his hands. They were large and calloused and comforting, and Gabriel had entertained a great many fantasies regarding those appendages and where he would like to feel them this evening. But Samuel was right in saying that Gabriel must be more explicit with him.

"Look, Sam, just give me a little time, okay? I want to tell you everything, I really do."

"Then do it!" Samuel went to the door. "Just…just do it, Gabe!"

Gabriel watched him leave, then clasped his hands. "Father…please…just this once, would you give me a little help?"

#

In the party, Castiel had finally worked up the nerve to speak with Dean.

"You acquitted yourself quite nicely with your cousin," the angel remarked.

"Oh, that was nothing, Cas."

Castiel smiled. At least, he hoped he smiled. These human facial expressions were still rather odd to him. When one had four heads in one's true form, one tended to let go of certain niceties, such as facial expression. "Don't be so modest. You are an excellent wrestler. I have half a mind…would you possibly do me the honor of sparring with me?"

Dean smiled at Castiel, and Castiel knew in that moment what it meant to have a prayer answered. That smile, so white and beautiful was in full force and bestowed upon his person. He felt that he might write a sonnet or make a declaration of undying love for that smile, and the thought was more than disconcerting. Angels weren't meant to feel such strong emotion.

"You, uh, wanna wrestle with me, Cas?" the human asked, approaching the angel, making him back up from the predatory look in those green eyes. "You wanna get all shirtless and oily with me in the ring?" the human now had the angel pressed against a wall. Every pore in Castiel's vessel screamed, "YES!" to him. "We can get all close together, all down and dirty on the floor. You can push me into the mat with your hard, strong chest." As if to accentuate this statement, Dean ran his palm from Castiel's shoulder down to his ribs, then that big hand gave his side a squeeze. "Would you like that?"

Castiel suddenly felt thirsty. It was an odd feeling to say the least. At least eighty nine percent of the moisture in his mouth had suddenly fled and he found he could not swallow for the constriction of his throat. "I…I, uh…" he tried to cough or splutter, but nothing came, just Dean's face a mere hair's breadth from his own. Their noses were practically brushing together. "Yes, Dean, I'd…I'd like that very much."

Dean's lower body came into contact with Castiel's, and both creatures forgot how to breathe for a moment. Then, slowly, agonizingly, Dean brought his head down to Castiel's, his lips brushing over the angel's ear. "No thanks," was all he said.

And then that delicious weight was gone, and Castiel was left leaning against the wall, his vessel shaking from some unknown emotion. For the first time in his millennia-spanning life, Castiel felt like running and hiding. He knew what that feeling was. He was already weakening. He would have to bind with the hunter. Bind with him or die.

#

Dean found Mrs. Winchester and begged her that they might quit the place.

"The party's barely started, Dean," said she. "What happened? You okay, baby?"

"I'm fine, Mom. I just…I just…don't want to be here."

Mrs. Winchester wasn't the sort to press visiting and parties on her children when such amusements were unwelcome, so when Samuel approached to beg the same thing as his brother, she wasted no time in finding her husband and having the Impala called for at the door.

The entire Longbourn party, save for Adam, was in low spirits as they quitted Netherfield. Mrs. Winchester was certain that some ill fortune had befallen her eldest children, and Mr. Winchester was distressed about news from the demon fighting front. Adam was sorry to have left his friend Samandriel, and Dean and Sam were both distressed by their angels. The only member who really felt that the evening had been fine was Ash, who had no connexions or expectation for the night. He had eaten and drunk his fill and had wrestled with a few uncommonly strong ladies whose numbers were now programmed into his phone. For him, the evening had been a success.


End file.
